Nature's Servant (40 page)

It was nearing the end of the session and Gaspi was growing tired, but there was one more thing he wanted to try. Taurnil had made him practice knife skills to the point where he was at least semi-capable of handling himself. He must have thrown his knife at practice dummies a thousand times! He could get it to flip end over end and land point first about half of the time now, and he decided it was time to have a go at seeing how it worked out in real combat. Taurnil had sourced a practice knife for him, and he’d secreted it away within his clothing for an appropriate moment.

He was going to throw it at Voltan rather than Jonn, as Jonn would be more prepared for physical attacks, but he might just take Voltan by surprise. If the warrior mage saw it coming he’d just block it, but Gaspi had an idea of how he might get the better of him. The fighters were squaring off again, positioning themselves for another exchange of blows. Jonn leapt in first this time, bringing both blades to bear, but Taurnil blocked him, sweeping the blades aside and stepping back. Gaspi thought that Jonn was trying to trap Taurnil into attacking him hastily, but Taurnil was too experienced to be tricked like that anymore. He waited until Voltan began to summon a strike, and, guessing it was intended for Taurnil, summoned one of his own, causing Voltan to hesitate in case attacking Taurnil left him vulnerable. Gaspi feinted an attack on Jonn, but at the last moment he changed targets and flung it at Voltan instead.

The warrior mage had a fraction of a second to decide what to do with his strike. Under the pressure of the unexpected attack, he released it and formed a force shield with a swift, semi-circular motion of his hand. He almost made it, but the shield was only part formed when Gaspi’s hard, sharp shock of force burst through it and caught him in the midriff. The warrior mage staggered backwards with a grunt, and as he struggled to regain control, Gaspi drew his dagger and flung it at Voltan with a flick of his wrist. Voltan looked up in time to see Gaspi’s knife flipping through the air towards him. His hands came up, trying to summon an air shield, but just as it was forming between his hands, the knife sailed through the gap, puncturing the flimsy defence and slamming point first against his chest.

Taurnil and Jonn stopped fighting at the sound of Voltan’s exclamation of pain, turning in time to see Gaspi’s blunted blade fall to the floor. Voltan shot a hard look at him, covering the spot where the knife had hit him with one of his hands. For a moment Gaspi thought he was in trouble, but then a slow grin spread across the warrior mage’s normally grave face.

“Now that is what I call sword and sorcery!” he enthused. “How long have you been working on your knife skills?”

“A month or so,” Gaspi said, relieved he wasn’t in trouble. “Taurnil makes me practice every day.”

“So he should,” Voltan said approvingly. “That was excellent. Not just the throw, but the way you caught me off guard with the strike. That’s the kind of move that will win you a bout at the Measure.”

“He should learn some more physical attacks then,” Taurnil said. Gaspi groaned.

“Taurnil’s got it right,” Voltan said. “Try and mix it up as much as possible. There will be some very experienced teams competing, and you won’t be the only team going from the college either.”

“Oh?” Gaspi said. “Who else is going?”

“Jonn and I have decided to compete, for one. An older student called Jaim has chosen to enter too, fighting alongside Sabu. And then there’s Everand, who’ll be teaming up with Baard.”

Gaspi felt a cold rush in his gut. “Everand?” he repeated stupidly.

Voltan looked at him shrewdly. “I thought you had settled your differences with him.”

“We had,” Gaspi said. “It’s a long story.”

“Well you’d better get used to it, as you’ll be going to the Measure together, and I’ll expect you to support each other.” Gaspi exchanged a glance with Taurnil, who clearly felt as he did, but he knew better than to say anything more in front of Voltan. “That’s enough for today. Make sure he works hard Taurnil!” the warrior mage said with the slightest of smiles.

“You know it,” Taurnil responded earnestly, eliciting another groan from Gaspi, who didn’t think Taurnil needed further encouragement to make him practice.

…

“Why do I keep having to deal with that idiot?” Gaspi asked, frustrated. “I go out of my way to avoid being around him, just so we don’t get into a fight, and now I’ll have to put up with him at the Measure. I might even have to fight him!” Loreill gave an alarmed squeak from next to him on the bench.

“Sorry Loreill,” he said, realising he’d been stroking Loreill much too forcefully. Loreill chirruped reproachfully and settled himself back down. The blazing fire made it too warm in the snug for the elemental to wrap himself around his shoulders, so they’d settled for this alternative arrangement instead.

“I know what you mean,” Taurnil said, staring at his untouched pint. “He really wound me up while you were away.”

Gaspi was silent for a moment as he thought. “When I found out about him coming onto Emmy, I wanted to tear him apart. It was really hard to hold back, but I learned a lot of stuff from Heath and forced myself to let it go. But that doesn’t mean I want anything to do with him. The only reason we’re not at each other’s throats is because I keep a decent distance between us. If I’m forced to fight him, it could be different. Emmy definitely won’t be pleased…”

“Probably not,” Taurnil agreed. “But it is what it is. If we have to fight him, we’ll just have to beat him good and proper.”

Gaspi smiled faintly at his friend’s pragmatism. “Good plan,” he said half-heartedly. He still couldn’t shake the cold feeling in his gut. What was wrong with him at the moment? He felt uneasy about the students’ reaction to the elementals, and now he had a kind of lingering dread about the Measure. Wasn’t Lydia meant to be the seer?

“Are you up to fighting Baard?” he asked, in part to distract himself from thoughts of Everand.

“It depends,” Taurnil answered with a furrowed brow. “Baard is very strong but he relies on that way too much. You saw him fight at the tournament last year. He’s big and he hits hard, but that’s all he’s got. The man’s never even heard of tactics!”

Gaspi laughed as he remembered the way the red-bearded giant had charged two of the best swordsmen in the city without a thought for his own defence. “Good point,” he said. “I can’t imagine him getting into all the intricate stuff we’re learning with Voltan. He’ll just try and overpower you.”

“I might be able to handle that,” Taurnil said honestly. “The staff is perfect for defending against that kind of attack, but he’ll probably be fighting with Bonebreaker, so that could change things.”

“Oh yeah, right!” Gaspi said, remembering the colossal axe Baard had wielded in the battle last year. It was a fearsome thing, carrying an ancient enchantment that surrounded it in a dark aura of power and made it devastating to its wielder’s enemies. “We’ll have to check if Baard will be allowed to use it. It belongs to the city remember, and I’m not sure Heppy would loan it out.

“What about Sabu?” Gaspi asked.

Taurnil winced. “Forget it!” he said. “If we have to fight Sabu, it’ll be down to you mate. I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Fair enough.”

“And we’ve got the same problem with those enchanted swords of his. We’d better practice fighting against someone like Baard, and Sabu too, for what it’s worth.”

“Tomorrow,” Gaspi said. He’d worked hard enough on combat for one day. What he really wanted to do was spend some time with Emmy. “Lydia’s with Emmy right?”

“Yeah that’s what she said,” Taurnil responded.

“Let’s finish these,” he said, indicating their pints, “and then I’m gonna go find Emmy,”

“Sure,” Taurnil said with a revealing smile. Gaspi knew that he wouldn’t object to spending a few hours with his girlfriend either.

Gaspi glided easily over the ice, swerving around the other players as he warmed up. Midwinter was only a few days away and it was cold enough that the quad remained iced over between games. When the boys wanted to play football, they just used his enchanted device to melt the ice, but today they were playing koshta, and the full complement of players had turned out for the game. Taurnil was in goal for Everand’s team, tapping the ice with his whacker in readiness. Everand’s team was already on the ice, and most of Owein’s team were ready too with the exception of their goalie, who was still tying up his ice boots at the side of the quad.

“Wake up Gav!” Owein called, anxious to start the game.

“All right I’m coming,” Gav grumbled, pulling at the straps one last time. The thickset boy caught Gaspi’s eye and grinned. Gaspi grinned back and spun back out into the middle of the ice, where Owein was facing off against Everand. Gaspi used to handle the face off, but he’d given up that role since discovering that Everand would be competing in the Measure, figuring that it was best to avoid any kind of conflict with the arrogant boy if possible. All around them sticks were clacking against the ice, ready for the off.

When Gav was in position Gaspi counted them down: “Three, two, one, play,” he called, and Everand and Owein swung at the seed. Everand was the faster of the two, making first contact with the seed and sending it spinning across the ice. Gaspi resisted the temptation to chase it down, trusting the defence to play their part. He moved into position on the right, ready to receive the seed. He darted back in the direction of the action, watching anxiously as Everand shot at goal, but the shot was slow and Gav blocked it easily enough. Without a pause, he sent the seed skittering out in Gaspi’s direction. He’d made sure he found a spot where there wasn’t anyone between him and Gav, and the seed slid across clear space, passing several outstretched whackers with yards to spare.

He was already moving when he picked up the pass, spinning around Matthias in an elaborate move that distracted the small lad. He hadn’t actually struck the seed, which slid right through Matthias’ feet, and he picked it up on the other side of him, leaving Matthias standing uselessly in his wake.

He had no problems getting past the next defender, taking the seed with him this time as he manoeuvred around him. He cut back on himself, opening up a line to goal, and seeing Taurnil braced to block him, he feinted a strike. Taurnil twitched, lowering his whacker. He realised it was just a feint and tried to pull back from the block, but Gaspi followed up with a hard strike to the right. The seed shot forward, flying several inches above the ice, and though Taurnil reached out a gloved hand to catch it, he was out of position and the seed shot past him.

“Goal!” Owein’s team shouted, and Gaspi returned to his position on the right to a gratifying chorus of cheers. He couldn’t help grinning - there was nothing better than koshta. The next few plays were more hard fought. The lads had really improved their game in the last few months, and though he was clearly still the best player, the defenders were much better at blocking him than they used to be. Having him on their side gave Owein’s team an advantage, but the difference between the goalies kept things even. Taurnil was always hard to get past, but Gav was easier to beat, and let goals in much more frequently. Within fifteen minutes Gaspi and Owein had both scored for their team, but Everand had put two shots past Gav, so the score was even. Owein had hurt his wrist in the last play, so it was up to Gaspi to face off against Everand in the middle.

He glanced at the
side-lines, where Emmy and Lydia were watching. Lydia didn’t like watching any kind of sport but since Taurnil was playing more often now, she made an effort to come along on the condition that Emmy had to talk to her about something other than koshta while the game lasted. Lydia was saying something to her, but it didn’t look to Gaspi like Emmy was keeping up her side of the bargain. She was clearly watching the action avidly! She had Lilly in her lap and Loreill round her shoulders, and looked pretty pleased with the arrangement. The fire spirit lay on the bench beside Lydia, its long, slender tail encircling its entire body.

The loud clack of wood on ice brought Gaspi’s attention back to the game. Everand was directly opposite him, the polished seed lying between them on the ice.

“Ready?” Everand asked, his tone flat and aggressive.

“Ready,” Gaspi said, suppressing a surge of anger.

Owein began counting down. “Three, two, one…” but he didn’t start the play. Confused, Gaspi looked up to see why he’d stopped. Owein pointed towards Emmy and Lydia, and he turned to find Professor Worrick standing next to them, beckoning at him to come over.

“Hold on,” Gaspi said to Owein, and glided over to speak to the professor, who was breathing heavily after what must have been a brisk walk through the campus.

“Sorry to interrupt Gaspi,” he said “but I need to borrow you.” His disappointment must have shown. “This can’t wait I’m afraid.”

Gaspi knew from the professor’s tone that whatever it was must be important. “Okay Sir,” he said, and glided back over to Owein. “Sorry mate,” he said. “The professor wants me. I think it’s pretty important.”

“Oh,” Owein said, sharing his disappointment. “You’d better go then I guess.”

“See you later,” Gaspi said, and glided back to where the professor waited with the girls. Professor Worrick waited as he sat down to untie his boots.